


now we don our gay apparel

by HamAndSwiss



Series: gay-ng [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Cute, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I am Iron Man, Jewish Character, Jewish Courfeyrac, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), Like, Multi, Polish food, courf is so smol, it is my fav, matching pajamas, my children are adorable, onesies!!!, otp, really - Freeform, they deserve happiness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 11:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19084111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamAndSwiss/pseuds/HamAndSwiss
Summary: Joly has Polish ancestry. His boyfriends cook some Polish food for him on Christmas Eve. And onesies. And it's cute.





	now we don our gay apparel

“Joly! Is this right?” Courfeyrac shouts nervously. His boyfriend runs in, appraising the bread and then nodding. “Perfect.” Courfeyrac leans over the counter, blowing flour off his hand and onto Joly’s navy blue sweatshirt. “Perfect just like you,” Joly adds, giving a wry smile. The other boy blushes a bright red, before nodding. “Yourself as well,” he stammers.

“Hey, what’s cooking?” Combeferre asks, shutting the door behind him and walking down the hallway to the kitchen. Courfeyrac looks up and gives his second boyfriend a bright smile. “Joly’s Polish Christmas food. I just finished the bread, I’m going to cook the kosher kielbasa soon, and then I have to make… babushka?” He finishes that sentence with a querying glance at Joly, and the young man laughs. “No, not babushka, silly. It’s bobalki.”

Combeferre leans over Courfeyrac’s shoulder, smiling down at the bread. “Anything I can make, Jol? Even though I’m not a genius food-maker like Courf here.” Courfeyrac blushes, again, at the compliment, while Joly thinks for a second and then nods. “Actually, yes. I bought dough at the store, bit of a cheat there but it’s easier, and we’ve got some cabbage. You can make pierogis! I’ll show you!”

Joly pecks Courfeyrac on the cheek, before grabbing Combeferre’s hand and pulling him over to the refrigerator. “Okay, so, here’s the cabbage, and here’s the dough. What you’re going to want to do is—” He gives Combeferre the directions, then sets him loose to work on that, before going to check on Courfeyrac, who throws a bit of flour at him while giggling.

When all is said and done, Courfeyrac and Combeferre banish Joly to the bedroom while they work on setting the table. “Careful!” Courfeyrac scolds, gently slapping his boyfriend on the arm when he drops Joly’s “very expensive and old” china too heavily onto the lace tablecloth. “Sorry, darling!” Combeferre replies guiltily, leaning in and booping Courfeyrac’s nose. “My many apologies.”

Finally, the table is set with dishes full of mostly not-burnt Polish food, and Courfeyrac knocks on Joly’s door to summon him out. The young man flings open the door, attacking his boyfriend in a hug. “I’m so excited!” he squeals, intertwining his fingers with Courfeyrac’s and pulling him back into the kitchen.

There, Combeferre is waiting with a bright smile and three wineglasses, one filled with wine and the other two filled with apple juice. Joly and Courfeyrac get the apple juice ones and Combeferre shows them to their seats, pushing in the chairs once they sit down.

“To Christmas, to my stunning boyfriends, and to France!” Combeferre toasts, raising his glass. The other two do the same, clinking their glasses together and then taking a sip. Then Combeferre smiles at Joly and passes him a plate, filled to the top with delicious-looking food.

“C’mon, c’mon, try it!” Courfeyrac exclaims excitedly, eyes bright, waiting for Joly to take the first bite of his bread. The latter does so, and his face lights up. “Oh my gosh, Courf, this is amazing! You must have been, like, a baker in a past life!”

Courfeyrac beams, his slight dimples illuminated by the three tall candles that Combeferre set out earlier. “Thanks Jol.”

The dinner is a wonderful affair, with lots of chatter and smiles and laughter. Finally, when it’s finished after some gorgeous makowiec that Courfeyrac managed to whip up, he reaches out for both of his boyfriends’ hands, grinning all the while. “Next year, I’m _definitely_ making you guys learn all about Hanukkah food.”

Joly nods, rubbing his thumb on the back of Courfeyrac’s hand. “I can’t wait. But don’t expect me to make challah bread, ‘cause I’m nowhere half the baker you are.” Combeferre lets out a bark of laughter, before pulling his boyfriends up to their feet and into the living room.

“I’ve got semi-matching pajamas for us, as is the tradition,” he proclaims, plopping down on the old brown couch, and reaching over to the side table to procure said pajamas. Courfeyrac claps his hands excitedly, already grabbing the one that belongs to him. “Awwww, Ferre, these are just darling!” he exclaims, before running off into the bathroom to change. Joly picks up his own and heads to the bedroom for his own change, and Combeferre just changes right there, because there aren’t any windows in that room anyway.

Once they’re all ready, they congregate back in the living room. “My word, don’t you two look dashing!” Combeferre says, beaming brightly at his shorter boyfriends. Courfeyrac is wearing a green onesie that has a hood and is designed to look like a dragon, with tail and all. On the front is, in black print, _I Am Small But Angry._ Joly has a neon yellow onesie with orange squiggles and orange words reading _I Am Painfully Bright._ Finally, Combeferre’s is designed to look like a certain superhero, and the words _I… Am… Iron… Man._

“I love it, I love it, I love it!” Courfeyrac squeals, clapping his hands and spinning in a circle. “These are just adorable! And I get to be a dragon!” Combeferre laughs, before heading over to pick up his boyfriend and drop him on the couch. “Chill, Monsieur Dragon. It’s almost time to go to bed.”

Courfeyrac springs up from the couch and runs over to grab a piece of paper and a pencil. “First, we must keep with the tradition and write a letter to Père Noël.” At the look he gets from Joly, he laughs. “I’ve been doing it since I was able to dictate a simple letter, and I don’t feel like stopping now. Now help me.”

“Okay…” Combeferre muses, leaning over his boyfriend’s shoulder. “First write—”

“There, done!” Courfeyrac finally proclaims, brushing off the eraser dust and holding the letter up.

_Père Noël,_

_We have been amazing this year. Joly got into the medical school he wanted to go to, and we are all proud of him. Courfeyrac came out to his parents, so he was really brave. As well, Combeferre got a new job that he really likes, which was great._

_Moving on to the presents. Courfeyrac would like a cat, unrealistic as that sounds, or possibly a complicated model-building set of the Bastille. Combeferre wants bacon, and that’s about all. Just some bacon, and he’ll be happy. Joly would like a few tickets to the theater, or possibly a book on genetics._

_Anyway, we hope you have a nice year!_

_Thank you!_

_~J. Courfeyrac, R. Joly, and E. Combeferre._

“Perfect!” Joly proclaims, reaching over and rustling Courfeyrac’s hair. “Now, I think it is properly bedtime,” he adds with a yawn. “We’ve already got our pajamas, so let’s go!” Courfeyrac smiles, grabbing Joly’s hand and pulling him down the hallway and into their bedroom, where they both immediately plop onto the bed.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” Combeferre calls, laughing slightly at how adorable his boyfriends are. There’s some sort of tired non-committal noise from Joly, causing Combeferre to chuckle again. He takes care of a few things, makes sure he has all the presents he bought, turns off all the lights, and then heads in to bed.

“Happy Christmas,” he murmurs, getting in on the other side of Courfeyrac, who mumbles, “Merry Hanukkah,” before drifting back off to sleep.

Outside, the light grey sky begins to snow, gentle flakes falling down and blanketing Paris in the way that only seems to happen in movies. If you listen hard enough, you can hear, out in the darkness, the clear sound of jingling bells, ringing in peace on Earth.

**Author's Note:**

> My mom and I make Polish food for Christmas and Easter and it's awesome.  
> Also. Can I just say I <3 their onesies? That's all.
> 
> They're like twenty-four/twenty-five in this.


End file.
